Once, When People Smiled
by PercyandCassandra
Summary: When a broken Gabriella meets an optimistic Gavroche, his friendship may be the only thing that can save her from herself.
1. Wandering through Hell

**Summary: Gabriella's broken life has led her all over Paris, but now she has finally given up. A chance meeting with Gavroche, however, saves her from suicide one night; in time, will his friendship become the one thing that can save her from herself?**

**Disclaimer; No, I do not own Les Mis or anything related to it. (It would be amazing to, though…)**

**This is my second attempt at a Les Mis fan fiction, so all criticism is welcome. **

**JackValjean****: you were possibly one of the most helpful people in the world to me last time I tried to write, and I'm hoping you'll share your views with me on this one, too!**

Once, When People Smiled

"Il était une fois, quand les gens ont souri, le prince du monde a volé mon coeur de moi.

The broken strains of a forgotten love hovered in the dirty air of Paris, and Gabriella watched as the smog from the gas lamps smeared her words into a dirty, empty shell of what they used to be. Disgusted, the filthy child let her head fall and her eyes focus their glare on the remains of what used to be cobblestones, littering the Parisian streets. 

After all she'd seen, after all she'd done, Gabriella still could not understand how she came to be where she was.

Alone, abandoned, soiled. 

Forgotten, betrayed, abused.

The girl's grimy eyelids snapped shut, crushing her tears; the shards of which trailed dirt down her cheeks as they fell.

"Et j'ai erré le monde, voulant l'une chose que j'ai sue que je ne pourrais pas avoir."

Gabriella stopped walking and backed into whatever wall was behind her at the time. She slid down the slime-covered bricks of a bridge and landed on the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees.

The hunger came then, making it's now usual appearance in Gabriella's conscience. The girl cringed against the pain, bracing herself for the empty gnawing that came next. 

"Et quand la nuit est venue et les sourires nous ont abandonnés, le prince est venu à ma porte pour me donner en arrière l'une chose que j'ai voulue."

Gabriella's voice was wretched; the notes were destroyed in the bitterness of her voice, and what used to be a love song became a gruesome reminder of what she had lost, what she would never have again.

The hunger subsided.

Its visits were patterned; the pain arrived at a certain time, tortured the girl for a while, and then left, leaving her emptier than before.

Gabriella stood and crossed the filthy bridge she had rested against, if one could call the way she welcomed her pain restful.

As she walked, the nightmare came, the one the fourteen-year-old had been living since that night so many months ago. 

She didn't fight it tonight, though she had many nights before.

Tonight she wanted the memory; tonight she wanted to feel the bruises she had in the past. She wanted to remember the way every part of her heart hurt every time she man she once loved left her in the night. She needed to feel again the way he abandoned her, in the end.

And left Gabriella alone.

"Mais quand il a offert mon coeur je ne le prendrais pas parce que le trou dans mon coffre était la seule chose qui m'a rappelé un moment où les gens ont souri."

Her pace had not slowed throughout this night of hell. Her song had not ended.

But as the morning dawned and Gabriella found herself in a part of Paris she did not recognize, she sat down again with her back against the pole of a streetlamp and closed her eyes, letting herself sleep and dream of a time when people smiled.


	2. The One Who Laughed

Which was the worst choice Gabriella had ever and would ever make in her life

**Note; Thank you all for bearing with me through Chapter One! Gavroche is in this chapter, I promise! And he'll be in every chapter after this. I just needed the first part for minor character development. Gratzi!**

**Disclaimer; I don't own Les Mis. (Which is actually very unfortunate for me…)**

**JackValjean; I'm still counting on your opinion!**

**LesMiserablesEponine; Thank you again, a million times!**

**From previous chapter**: _But as the morning dawned and Gabriella found herself in a part of Paris she did not recognize, she sat down again with her back against the pole of a streetlamp and closed her eyes, letting herself sleep and dream of a time when people smiled._

Which was the worst choice Gabriella had ever and would ever make in her life.

Because when she woke up and the smiling stopped, and all she could see around her were the empty faces of those who would never care about her, Gabriella died inside and gave up completely.

Her life had been based on waking up, and Gabriella knew it. When she was young and her father would hit her, she would take the beatings, fall asleep, and wake up stronger. When her father killed her mother in a drunken fight, Gabriella went to bed and woke up determined to leave. When she met him, the Man Who She Once Loved, she fell asleep with him and woke up whole. When he left her in the night, she woke up empty, and began the wandering that had finally brought her to this part of Paris, and her last morning.

Her last, because she could not bear the thought of waking up one more day to the heartless grey of Paris and her broken life.

Her last, because today would be the day she would take her own life.

Gabriella was done. She was done waking up. And in that moment, she made the choice to put herself into a sleep she would not wake from.

At dusk, Gabriella found a bridge.

When the stars came out, she climbed up onto the rail, perched on the side like a bird. 

As the moon rose, she watched her nightmare in her mind.

And when the moon had met the center of the sky, Gabriella tensed her legs, preparing to jump.

She had nothing to live for. She wanted to sleep.

Gabriella closed her eyes, and listened to the sounds of the night that she had grown so used to hearing, the last sounds she wanted to hear.

But the beautiful silence of the night was broken, then.

Broken by the one golden sound that could please angels.

Laughter.

A giggle protruded from the darkness behind her, and for a moment Gabriella's legs relaxed. 

That sound. That beautiful, crystalline thread of hope. The one reminder of the time before The Man She Had Once Loved. The voice of the time when people smiled. 

And deep in her heart, Gabriella smiled. How long had it been since she heard a laugh? So mesmerized was she by the sound that she did not think of who it came from, and was therefore startled when coherent words broke the musical thread of laughter that had filled Gabriella's soul.

"You look like a cat, mademoiselle."

Gabriella's eyes fluttered open, and for once in her life she was so confused that she forgot her nightmare.

_She forgot her nightmare._

"What are you doing up on a bridge, _petit chat_? You could fall. Cats do not swim very well, mademoiselle."

Gabriella actually turned around, and was met by the sight of a dirty little boy, possibly two of three years her junior, with large amber eyes and an all too wise air about him, the aura that told you that he knew more than he let on.

"I threw a cat of the bridge once, mademoiselle. I never saw the cat again. Come down from the bride, _petit chat_."

And deep in her heart, Gabriella was instantly attached to the One Who Laughed. And she wanted nothing more than to hear his laugh again. She _needed _to hear his laugh again. She was addicted to the sound. And this became her purpose; to make the One laugh again. 

It had been months since Gabriella had ever felt purpose.

So she climbed down off the bridge and sat on the ground, her legs tucked up underneath her.

"You _still _look like a cat, mademoiselle. Only maybe more like a kitten all the way down there. But at least you are not on the bridge. Funny, that. A cat on a bridge."

He laughed again.

The sound was slightly deranged this time, but Gabriella didn't care. To her, the sound was golden.

"What is your name, mademoiselle?"

Gabriella thought for a moment, deciding. She could choose not to tell him, or to tell him a lie; change who she was. Or she could tell him her real name and make him a part of her broken life. But being who she was, she found a loophole.

"Gabriel."

And now she was herself, only different. Herself, only with a purpose.

"Gavroche," the boy said, and put his hand out to her, physically offering to help her.

He was offering to help her. _Her_. Forgotten, abandoned, shell-like Gabriella.

No. not Gabriella. Gabriel.

And so she put out her own hand and let the surprisingly strong child pull her up from the ground; let him lead her to the light of day.

And when he touched her, she felt like she could live.

Because someone, anyone, cared.

The One Who Laughed cared.

"Come with me, _petit chat_." Gavroche said, letting go of her hand and motioning for her to follow him. "I'll find you some milk."


	3. The Revolutionary's Cat

**Note; this chapter does not actually include Gabriel, but it does introduce Enjolras to the story. Thank you for your support!**

**Disclaimer; No, I do not own Les Mis. (However, if anyone knows where I can get it….)**

**LesMiserablesEponine; you're an angel for helping me with this, thank you so much!**

**JackValjean; can't wait to hear from you!**

**From the previous Chapter: **_"Come with me, petit chat." Gavroche said, letting go of her hand and motioning for her to follow him. "I'll find you some milk."_

Enjolras stretched out his legs and let them fall unceremoniously on the wooden table top in front of him. He was sitting in a chair in the Café where he spent so much of his time; however, his friends were not here today and he found himself quite alone in the misty fog of the Parisian morning. 

Observing his situation, Enjolras decided his time was best spent reading, and he flipped open the newspaper lying on the table.

Enjolras shook his head as he read. Things were not looking grand for the people of Paris. Already, small bands of revolutionaries were holding riots outside of the capital, and in response the police forces monitoring the city had nearly doubled, making any meetings between Enjolras and his friends difficult if not impossible.

Dejected, he folded the paper back up and lowered it to the tabletop, only to be met by the large eyes and protruding chin of Gavroche, the gamin, who lived in the streets and called himself a revolutionary. 

Enjolras smiled. His little friend could always make Enjolras laugh, and right now laughter was all he needed. 

He was not disappointed.

"I found a cat, Enjolras."

The man sitting in the chair let a deep, rumbling laugh emerge from his stomach, his eyes crinkling in joy at Gavroche's random sayings.

"Really, gamin? And where did you find this particular cat?"

Gavroche tilted his head to the side, thoughtful. "By the bridge. On the bridge. The cat was trying to drown herself, Enjolras."

Enjolras' laughter stopped. There was something in Gavroche's eyes that let him know that there were more layers to his speech than Enjolras realized.

"But I wouldn't let her down," Gavroche continued, plowing forward. "I told her to come with me so that I could find her some milk." 

And though the wheels in Enjolras' head had been turning, they finally clicked now. This was no cat.

_Poor girl, _the revolutionary thought, _Poor street urchin. How many have I seen give up on life? Is there never to be any relief?_ Enjolras hung his head sadly, and then raised his blue eyes to meet Gavroche's dark ones. 

"So you saved the cat, gamin?" Enjolras felt a spark of pride light inside him at the thought of Gavroche's kind optimism. 

"Yes, didn't you hear me? I told her to follow. She's outside now. She's very hungry. Can I bring her in here to get food?" 

Enjolras beamed at the small boy in front of him. Gavroche had not had an easy life, and Enjolras knew it. He had struggled through the streets since the day he was born, and yet the grime of the sewers was not reflected in the boy's kind heart. Here he was, barely more than a child, saving the life of a stranger.

"Yes, Gavroche," Enjolras said, waving to the seat next to himself. "Bring her inside; I'd like to meet your cat."

"Enjolras?"

"Yes?"

"She's not a cat."

The tall blonde smiled, and then picked up his newspaper. 

"I know," he said. "I know."


	4. She'll Be Safe Tonight

**Disclaimer; I don't own Les Mis. If I did, would I be writing fan fiction about it? (You know, the sad thing is, I probably would. I'd be like, **_**well, if I change this bit here…**_** and everyone would get really mad at me…)**

**LesMiserablesEponine; Thank you again for all your support and motivation. I couldn't do it without you!**

**From the previous Chapter; Enjolras and Gavroche have a discussion, ending with Enjolras' consent to Gabriel's entrance into the café. **

Gavroche wrapped his small hand around the wrist of the very dazed Gabriel who was leaning against the wall at the back of the Café.

"Come, now, _petit chat_. Enjolras says it's alright."

His voice seemed to cut through the fog that hung over the girl, and Gavroche smiled when she looked up at him, pleased with himself for getting her attention.

Gavroche knew that Gabriel wasn't a cat. He knew she wasn't trying to swim. In his short life, he had seen things no human being should ever see, and he understood that the dirty girl behind him had tried to take her own life.

He remembered when Arielle, a girl who occupied the same street that Gavroche used for sleeping, had tried the same thing that Gabriel had.

He remembered when Adrien, a boy who lived in the sewers near the Seine, had attempted suicide in the same fashion.

Gavroche had intervened in both of the attempts.

He now spent most of his nights patrolling the bridge, watching.

Gavroche knew how to handle these situations. He knew that people who went so far as to attempt murder were delicate. He knew the kinds of things he needed to say to coax them away from immediate danger, and from there to lead them back to safety and support.

She, Gabriel, was no different at first, but now posed more of a problem.

He knew she was not from this part of the city. She had no one here, and probably no one where she came from either. There was no support to lead her back to; she was a total stranger.

And so, of course, her continued safety now depended on Gavroche.

The boy's brow furrowed as he led Gabriel to Enjolras' table and sat her down. She didn't seem to interested in the conversation the older man tried to make with her, but Gavroche attributed this to physical and emotional exhaustion.

Gavroche pondered his predicament as he looked the filthy creature up and down.

He knew she had not always been like this; somewhere under years of Parisian smog and deep-rooted bitterness, there was a girl with a fragile heart and a pretty face.

For now, though, she was merely a hardened shell of whoever she used to be.

Gavroche's teeth caught his bottom lip as he considered what to do with her.

He obviously could not let her off on her own; at this stage he knew she'd head right back to the bridge. He couldn't keep her with him; Gavroche didn't really "keep" anywhere. He was always running around the heart of the city, and when he wasn't doing that he was tailing the police and involving himself with the revolution; certainly no place for a girl in her condition.

A thought struck him like lightning as he watched Gabriel eat whatever had been placed before her by Enjolras.

Combeferre was good at these kinds of things. He could help Gavroche and the girl.

A smile crept up the street urchin's face at his own brilliance. He'd take Gabriel to Combeferre's apartment to spend the night, while he discussed his predicament with the older man.

Not really one for long-term solutions, Gavroche leaned back in his chair, relaxing. He had come up with a decent plan, he decided, and at least she'd be safe for the night.

Gavroche snapped out of his reverie just in time to catch a question shot at him by Enjolras.

"Gamin, did you catch the bit in the paper this morning? What do you think about the riot in Rouen?"

And at once, the street rat and the revolutionary dived into an involved conversation, not noticing the way Gabriel had pulled her knees up to her chest or the way that her tears fell down her cheeks.


End file.
